


Chocolate Therapy

by Pureblood_Muggle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:08:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22685239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pureblood_Muggle/pseuds/Pureblood_Muggle
Summary: Written for Draco's Den Sweet Valentine Exchange.Hot Chocolate - because it doesn't ask silly questions. It understands. So does he.
Relationships: Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 27
Kudos: 32
Collections: My Sweet Valentine





	Chocolate Therapy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [realjane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/realjane/gifts).



> Written for realjane and Draco's Den Sweet Valentine 2020. I hope I did your prompt justice. Lots of fluffy Valentine's love to you!
> 
> Grab yourself some hot chocolate and then - hopefully - enjoy this little ficlet! 
> 
> Thanks to MaraudingManaged for her wonderful Beta Help!

She stared into her hot chocolate and watched the miniature marshmallows bob around after stirring them into a swirl. What a bloody arse of a day. Before she could sink deeper into her melancholy thoughts, she heard her name called by a smooth, deep voice.

“Ginny Weasley.” 

Ginny looked up to see none other than Blaise Zabini standing before her, a takeaway coffee cup in hand, giving her a half-smile. She raised her eyebrow at him. 

“What do you want, Zabini?” she asked, letting herself slump against the back of the chair and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Why so hostile, love? It’s Valentine’s Day! Shouldn’t you be off being disgustingly besotted with Potter?” 

Ginny’s eyes hardened and she looked away from him to gaze out of the window beside her, not really seeing what was there. Clearly, the gossip rags hadn’t caught up with her new relationship status. Surprising, really, since it’d been over a month since Harry had unceremoniously broken up with her. 

She’d been in shock that first day. Somehow, she hadn’t seen it coming. She was so stunned that she didn’t even manage to say anything back to him when he told her it was over. Harry had taken her silence as an agreement and left her staring at the place he had stood moments before. Once the shock wore off, she’d spent a week in denial until righteous anger took over - she could still find shards around her flat from the aftermath of that.

It was funny, she mused, how quickly that anger turned into utter sadness, loneliness and despair; completely bypassing any notion of them getting back together. She guessed that this was what people talked about when they said that the rug was pulled out from under them. Ginny had been lost in a sea of apathy.

Ginny scowled as she stared unseeingly out the window, remembering how only yesterday she’d laughed at something George had said. The first true amusement since  _ that  _ day - only for everything to go to shite again now. She’d forgotten it was Valentine’s Day and her need to get out for air had quickly turned sour when she noticed that every shop she’d found herself in was overflowing with hearts, anywhere she looked she saw happy couples. 

It was disgusting.

“Knut for your thoughts?”

Ginny’s head swivelled around to where Blaise had stood only to find he’d actually taken the seat opposite her. How had she missed that? She shrugged and looked back out the window. 

“So, any insightful gossip on the match against the Wasps next week?” 

She looked back at Blaise at his jovial tone. He was intently stirring his milky coffee with a thin, wooden stick. When he removed the spoon and proceeded to carefully lick the foam off it, looking up at her with a faint smirk, she could see chocolate clinging to it. 

“I’m sure we’ll trounce the Wasps. I’m not in the lineup though. I’m on the bench.”

“No way. You’ve never sat out a match. You injured?”

_ Injured pride _ , she thought, though all she did was shrug yet again. 

“How’s your hot chocolate?” he ventured. Ginny sighed, realising he wouldn’t give up until she spoke to him.

“It’s gone cold.” He gave a short nod and stood up. She watched him walk to the counter of the coffee shop and a few minutes later, he returned with a fresh hot chocolate for her.

“Thanks.” 

“Now drink it, before this one gets cold, too.” Blaise smiled.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you being nice to me?”

“I’m a nice guy?”

Ginny snorted. Blaise laughed, carefree, and it jolted her. She didn’t think she’d ever heard that sound from him. Then again, they’d never really interacted before.

“But why are you talking to me? Here,” She paused and lowered her voice. “In a Muggle coffee shop?”

“Why not?” he countered, then, at her  _ look, _ he elaborated. “I work nearby.”

“That why you have a coffee to go? Don’t let me keep you.”

“I’ve got time.” Ginny shrugged and they sipped their drinks in silence for a while. 

“What do you do?” she asked.

“What brings you here?” he asked at the same time.

Both chuckled. “Ladies first.”

“What is it you do for a living?”

“I write for the  _ Prophet _ . Freelance.”

“But, the  _ Prophet  _ offices are off Diagon. I thought you said you worked nearby?” Ginny didn’t think a forty-five-minute walking distance could be classed as ‘nearby’. 

“As I said, freelance. I work from home. My place is just around the corner.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t expected Blaise Zabini of all people to have a place in a Muggle neighbourhood. 

“Surprised? Draco had the same look on his face when I told him where I was buying,” he chuckled. “I like it here, though. Quiet, you know? People are nice, too.” He took a sip of his drink. “Nobody here to look at me in judgment.”

“Oh, right, well, I guess.” She’d never really thought about the  _ other _ side and how they coped since the war ended two years ago. “So, the  _ Prophet _ , yeah? I’ve never seen your name under anything...” Ginny winced as the words left her mouth; they sounded a bit rude, even to her own ears. 

Blaise grinned. “That’s okay. It’s nothing world-changing. I usually just do squibs.”

“I’m sorry, you what?” She’d nearly choked on a marshmallow and coughed. 

“They’re little fillers to fill the paper. Mini-news that they use on a slow news day.”

“Ah. So something even worse than their normal drivel.” It wasn’t even a question. She knew it was rude, but whatever. The  _ Prophet  _ could go hang for all she cared.

“Yeah,” he laughed on a breath, “That’s one of the more accurate descriptions of it.” After a short pause, he held out his hand to her. “The name’s Lander.  _ Phil Lander. _ ” 

That got a real laugh out of her and she quickly covered her mouth with her hand. 

“Oh Merlin,” she wheezed. “That’s you? I knew it wasn’t a real name. Suits you though, eh?” Ginny grinned, shaking her head. Of all the pseudonyms he could’ve chosen. 

“So, you’ve read my articles?”

“Yeah. They’re funny.  _ News, _ my arse. Your articles aren’t news! But I like your satire. Merlin, you should’ve seen mum after your first one. She was ready to storm the  _ Prophet  _ \- she hadn’t realised it was satire until Bill set her straight.”

They grinned at each other and launched into past articles, Blaise’s witty commentary on current affairs, and somehow - she wasn’t sure how or why - Ginny found herself telling him that she was single again with no hope to ever get back together with Harry. 

She stared at him in shock after that confession left her lips. Before she found her voice again to beg Blaise to keep it secret, and out of the paper, he already spoke.

“It’ll stay between us. You have my word.” Ginny sagged in relief. “Though, how long it’ll be before one of the main reporters figures this out themselves I can’t say. It won’t come from me though. You both attract such publicity, just because of who you are, I am surprised it hasn’t been all over the  _ Prophet  _ already.” 

“I know. Sometimes, I think it  _ should  _ be, but maybe Harry has paid someone off to keep it out? I don’t know. And I can’t ask him, either. I… we… haven’t had any contact since and, well, I know how much he hates being in the spotlight. Oh don’t laugh, he really doesn’t like it. I just hope that when it becomes public knowledge, we’ll be on good terms again to face the fallout.”

“You think that likely?”

“I don’t hate him.”

“You still love him?”

She merely shrugged, which Blaise accepted without argument. He didn’t interrupt her thoughts, only knocked lightly on the table before nodding at her and leaving the café.

***

When Ginny sat in the same café again exactly a week later, she told herself it was because the hot chocolate had been exceptional. It had absolutely nothing to do with a certain wizard who had been entirely unexpected. 

Unexpectedly nice. Unexpectedly good company. Unexpectedly gentlemanly. 

Ginny certainly wasn’t sitting at the same table, this time looking out the window at passers-by; yet  _ certainly not _ to hope for a glimpse of Blaise. No, not at all. The hot chocolate, though: no better could be found elsewhere in London.

“You’re back.”

She jumped at his warm, low voice behind her. How had she missed him coming in?

“Goodness, do you always sneak up on people?”

Blaise snorted. “Difficult to sneak when you’re 6’2 and burdened with these damn good looks.” He winked at her and it was her turn to snort though she felt her cheeks heat at his blatant flirting.

Uninvited, he lowered himself back into the seat opposite her.

“So, the kneazle is out of the bag,” he said without preamble. 

“Yeah.” There wasn’t anything else to say. Not really. Strangely, the Prophet had actually kept quiet about their breakup. Witch Weakly on the other hand - they’d run with a ten-page special on Harry’s newfound singledom and speculation about why they’d split up. None of the rumours had come close to the truth, but it had forced her and Harry into meeting up and figuring out how to deal with the press once and for all.

Thankfully, Hermione had been there to help them through what must have been the most awkward hour of her life. Afterwards, she’d cried on Hermione’s shoulder for what felt like hours. It had been cathartic to finally let it all out with someone else after bottling it all up by herself for far too long.

“You doing alright?” Blaise’s eyes roamed her face, taking in every nuance of her expression. Ginny felt exposed and dropped her eyes to her hot chocolate.

“I will be,” she said at length.

“Good.”

*** 

Another week, another Monday saw her back at the café. This time, she’d actually looked at the place’s name.  _ The Magic Bean.  _ She’d grinned at that.  _ Muggles. _ It was fascinating to see how enamoured Muggles were with magic. If only they knew it wasn’t all card tricks and pulling bunnies out of hats. 

As she walked in, her gaze was immediately pulled towards  _ her  _ table and she froze, spotting not only Blaise but Draco Malfoy; the latter sitting in  _ her _ seat. She frowned and made her way over to the counter to order, willing herself not to look in their direction. 

When she received her hot chocolate - with extra marshmallows - she turned to find both wizards looking directly at her, and Blaise waving her over. There was no way she could pretend not to have seen  _ that. _

“Hi.” Ginny stopped at the table but made no movement to sit down with them. 

“Join us,” Blaise spoke up, indicating the empty chair next to him.

“I’m not staying long, if that helps you decide, Weasley,” Draco drawled with a smirk.

“I don’t care either way, Malfoy. Stay or go.” She sat down.

“How’s your week been?” Blaise asked. Ginny shot him a look that should’ve wilted him on the spot. “Right.” Blaise winced. “Kestrals won.”

“On a technicality, no less,” she huffed. “It was a foul and the goal shouldn’t have counted. There should’ve been a penalty shot for us.”

“It wasn’t the goal that made you lose by 160 points, Weasley.” 

“Didn’t you have somewhere to be, Malfoy?” Ginny glared at him over her cup, then jumped a little when she felt Blaise’s hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t hex him. Remember where we are.” He winked at her and she sniffed indignantly. “When will you be fit to play again?”

“I’m fit. I just-” she stopped herself and shot a look at the blond wizard across from her. He simply raised an eyebrow at her. Ginny fiddled with the handle of her cup and remained quiet.

“I see I’m neither needed nor wanted here.” Draco drained his cup and stood, waving. “Blaise. Weasley. Enjoy your date.”

With that, he swirled around and left the café. Ginny stared after him, wide-eyed. 

“This isn’t a date,” she said, dully. Blaise chuckled. “Well, it isn’t.” She crossed her arms and looked at him.

“No. I’d like to think I could deliver something better than a coffee shop if this were a date.” 

“Oh?” She hid a smirk beneath the rim of her mug.

“Are you doubting me? Or challenging me?” The smirk slipped off her face as his arm wound around her back and he whispered the next words into her ear. “I’m rather good at dates, and even better at making a pretty witch forget why she’s sad.

“That’s-” Ginny cleared her throat. “That’s a lot of talk, Blaise. Talk is cheap.”

A chuckle in her ear. Then, a soft kiss right below it, making her shiver and take in a sudden breath. “You free now? Are you brave enough, my little lioness?”

***

Blaise certainly hadn’t been lying when he said that his place was close. They exited the café and turned right, only to enter through the next door. Once in the small hall of the building, he led her toward the stairs and asked permission to side-along her to the top floor, if that was preferable to her walking up six flights of stairs.

She’d called him a lazy git and began to easily jog up.

Once at the top, both out of breath, he made sure no Muggles were around and used his wand to unlock his front door.

His place was immaculate. That was the first thing Ginny noticed. It was large, clean, and masculine in dark greys and blacks with a definite lack of anything whimsical and – from what she could glimpse – had an amazing view over the nearby park and some of London’s best-known skyline.

She’d have to check that view out later though, she thought wryly, as Blaise kicked the door closed behind her and reached over to help her shrug out of her coat. Ginny would’ve thought it yet another gentlemanly act had he not punctuated it with a string of kisses down her neck.

His mouth was back by her ear. “Tell me what you need.”

Ginny swallowed, nerves bubbling, and remained silent.

“Stop overthinking, love.” His arms circled around her waist. Another kiss, this time the other side of her neck. “Shall I tell you what I want?” She nodded jerkily.

“I want to kiss you. Everywhere from your head to your toes. I want to touch you and taste you.” His voice had gone hoarse. “I want to feel you getting wet and ready for me. I want you to forget your own name and do nothing but feel pleasure. And then, when I’ve tasted every inch of your body, I want to bury myself deep inside you, my hands in your glorious red hair, and fuck you until you scream my name.”

She turned in his arms and made herself meet his eyes. The fire in them sent a jolt down to her core. She had to clear her throat to manage a strained whisper.

“That’s a lot of talk, Blaise.”

His dark eyes appeared to glow from within. The predatory look should’ve scared her, but it excited her. She licked her lips and he cursed softly. His hands wound into her hair and he lowered his head to be level with her, his mouth only a breath away from hers.

“Tell me you want this.” She nodded, almost imperceptibly. “With words, Ginny. I need to hear you say it.”

Her eyes blazed and she took a shaky breath. “Yes, Blaise… I want that. All of it.”

She had barely finished the sentence when his lips claimed hers, his tongue sweeping and licking and claiming. Soon, all of her thoughts disapparated to a remote island while Blaise put his words into action, and followed through with every one of his whispered promises. 


End file.
